1925
by clfo
Summary: A journey through 1925, focussing on downstairs and how things are changing following the wonderful CS. Quite Chelsie - centric, there is also quite a bit of Daisy (as she is very under rated in canon!), Anna, Bates, Tom and the children! Plus Mrs P, Thomas and so on!
1. Chapter 1

Hello All! I wanted to take a continuation of the 2014 CS and look at the year ahead and what it may hold for all our friends downstairs. Some of you liked seeing Daisy's voice in my story "My Dear Anna" so some parts of this will be shown from her perspective, including the first chapter which isn't in 1925 at all, but still in 1924 (because it just had to be!) between Christmas and New Year. So we will see a changing world as the twentieth century turns 25 and how our lovely Chelsie news affects downstairs.

I hope you enjoy – please do leave feedback – I promise to try and answer all your messages! Some months may be longer coming than others so please bear with me as real life is busy and my mind does not always work in a chronological order (the whole idea started with September which is written already!) and I want to do a chapter per month.

Late December, 1924

Daisy

1925.

To take a moment in time and make a difference with it. To be someone. To be the future, grab the opportunities out there and give everything to learning in order to make a difference. It had been a year of changes and there was definite unrest, not necessarily in a bad way; just a feel that things were changing.

Daisy sighed as she bent to light the range one cold morning. It was that gloomy time of year between Christmas and New Year; the weather was grey and the feeling of discontent that had bugged her for the last few months didn't seem to want to lift. She didn't regret staying exactly; it wasn't that. It was just….well, she didn't know. Mrs Patmore had given her a lovely diary for Christmas and she was looking forward to starting it in the New Year. As if those bright new pages would signify a new start.

1925.

With all the flux both upstairs and down, there was a real shift in things. There was a more hopeful feel somehow, since Christmas. Since Anna and Mr Bates both came home. No, before that, since Mrs Patmore had arranged that lovely meal when the family were at Brancaster and included her with the senior servants, not leaving her as she had initially feared, with the kitchen maids. It was a small nod in the right direction, but there nonetheless. Had defended her against Mr Carson even suggesting that if her presence affected his social conscience he should be the one to eat with the kitchen staff. His face had been a picture! It was nice to feel a real part of it though.

1925.

That would be the year that she would change. All she needed was the spur to drive her on. Mrs Patmore had encouraged her in the run up to Christmas, urged her to get her books out again. Pouring herself the first cup of tea of the day she took a minute to stand and think about what it may be that had so disenchanted her with the last year. Miss Bunting had provided the main change with her talk of learning, her inspirational words, and her help. For the first time Daisy Robinson (one of these days she would get used to being Daisy Mason, but with William dead six years it didn't look likely any time soon) felt as if she could be someone; that she wasn't invisible; that she had a voice to be heard. She would make this year matter, learn all she could and decide where her future really lay. A few months ago she had yearned for the lights of London, but somehow coming home, seeing how happy her staying had made Mrs Patmore and Mr Mason, had made her all the more determined to stay; that and the way the downstairs family had rallied for Anna and Bates.

Ivy wrote from America of the gadgets they had in the kitchens there. Mrs Patmore was so intransigent, she really needed to get more with it, to progress. She was surprised Ivy had stayed in touch; but glad she had made the decision she had. Whilst she knew she wanted more, Yorkshire was and always would be home and while you could pop back from London you couldn't from New York… Poor little Miss Sybbie she thought as she went back to work, such a big journey for such a little girl. She'd looked Boston up in the atlas in the library. It was nice to know where they were going. She hoped Mr Branson would find happiness there.

Her heart fluttered as she heard footsteps on the stairs. The house was waking up. She flushed a little when she remembered how pleased she had been when it was announced that Andy, the footman who had helped at Lady Rose's wedding would be joining the staff permanently. She had felt her breath still as Thomas had suggested it and Mr Carson had considered it. The minute Mrs Hughes had given her approval she had known it would happen; that he would come. It was silly, but she couldn't help but hope that someday he would notice her as she did him.

New Year, 1924/5

The last hours of 1924 were quiet. The family were out at a neighbouring house party. There had been an early evening visit downstairs by Nanny and the children, keen to share the baking Daisy had done with them earlier in the day. Tom and Sybbie would leave in two days for Boston and the sadness that everyone felt at their departure hung heavily over the house. Nonetheless there had been a lighter feel at dinner, with banter and laughter round the table. Andy had proved himself a worthy successor to William at the piano in the corner of the servant's hall. A piano that had sat silent in mourning for far too long.

Dinner over, Mr Carson stood and tapped his glass for silence. Mrs Patmore and her kitchen staff had joined them in the servant's hall. The cook grinned helplessly, nudging Mrs Hughes and winking as she arrived. The housekeeper smiled nervously at her friend as silence descended on the room.

"Are we in for a lecture then?" drawled Mr Barrow leaning back in his chair "as festivities have been brought so sharply to an end?"

"On the contrary, Mr Barrow" retorted the Butler, his annoyance at the man giving him the confidence to continue. "In fact, I would like you to raise your glasses in celebration" he gestured to the tray of champagne being handed round by one of the hall boys.

"Oh, very generous of his Lordship" acknowledged Moseley handing Miss Baxter a glass before taking his own.

"This is not from his Lordship, but from myself and Mrs Hughes. We hope that you will raise your glasses in celebration, not yet of the New Year, but of the fact that Mrs Hughes and I are to be married"

An audible gasp rippled through the hall, followed by a delighted flurry of congratulations. Anna squealed in delight, propriety forgotten as she hugged the housekeeper. Both Mr Carson and Mrs Hughes found themselves surrounded as everyone rushed to congratulate them. This was more than either of them had expected. This outpouring of affection which showed them just how highly they were regarded.

The meeting with Lord and Lady Grantham earlier in the day had been less exuberant. His Lordship had been shocked, thrown off course by something so out of the normal way of things; his wife more supportive, more forward thinking, promising that they would find a way for them to stay on. Details that would be ironed out in the coming weeks. Mrs Hughes smiled up at her fiancé, able to look him in the eyes publicly for the first time since Christmas Eve, so afraid had she been of giving away her feelings in the week that had just passed. She saw her own feelings reflected back in his eyes.

"So" Thomas broke into the excited babble "When do I take over?" a heavy pause settled on the room as Mr Carson puffed his chest out indignantly. A gentle hand on his arm calmed him.

"Not for some time yet, Mr Barrow, but we'll bear your enthusiasm in mind" smiled Mrs Hughes sweetly as she firmly put him back into his place "Now" she raised her glass "to new beginnings and a Happy New Year!"

TBC…

I'd love to hear your thoughts! x


	2. Chapter 2 : January 1925

**Thank you for your lovely comments on the first chapter. January has proved to be a busy month with lots happening to all our characters in my head so we have a long chapter!**

**Please review! I value all your comments!**

-0-

**Chapter 2: January**

"_Hope smiles from the threshold of the year to come,_

_Whispering 'it will be happier'"_

Alfred, Lord Tennyson

"I think it's _so_ romantic – to finally find the love of your life after all these years….to work with someone to know them and then suddenly to realise you love them, don't you Mrs Patmore? It's like something out of a novel" beamed Daisy.

"About bloody time is what it is! It was no more a thunderbolt or earthquake than a blessed relief! They've loved one another for years, but both of them are, I don't know, too stubborn to admit it…."she trailed off "It were lovely though, weren't it, to see the way they looked at one another?"

Elsie Hughes drew back from the kitchen doorway and pressed a cool hand to her flaming cheeks; she hadn't meant to listen in, but she had overheard Daisy and, and…well there was no excuse, not really. What Mrs Patmore had said was so true. Of her own feelings at least, but my word, had he really felt the same all this time?

"Well, well, are you encouraging gossip?" whispered a deep voice in her ear. She jumped back as she looked up into his amused eyes.

"Me, Mr Carson?" she asked coyly, moving away down the corridor towards her sitting room. "Not at all, I just happened to hear…."

"Ah, but that's the thing, eavesdroppers never hear good of themselves…"

" On the contrary, Mrs Patmore and Daisy were discussing our news and seem very happy" she said, resting her hand on his and looking up at him "It was quite enlightening actually" she said, eyes twinkling "Mrs Patmore is under the illusion that we have, in fact, been in love for years…" Seeing his awkwardness she smiled, squeezed his arm and was gone in a rustle of skirts, leaving him dumbfounded, flattered and amazed. Good grief, he thought, surely she hadn't felt the same as he had all this time.

-0-

"Mr Carson, Mrs Hughes" Anna said softly, entering the breakfast hall after the rest of the staff, and making her way to the head of the table "Lord Grantham has just caught me on the way down from Lady Mary. He would like to see you both in the library at ten."

However quietly she had spoken, it was evidently not quite quiet enough.

"Deary me" oiled Thomas, lounging back in his chair and raising his tea cup in a mock toast "are we in trouble? I am more than happy to accompany you, in case his Lordship needs anything and you will evidently be _off duty_. Who knows I may even be able to steady things, if they get a little heated or out of control"

For the second time in just over twelve hours, Elsie Hughes saw the colour of anger rising in the man she loved, and stepped in.

"That won't be necessary thank you Mr Barrow. I am sure that between us we have enough experience in service to manage any requests his Lordship may have. In the meantime I am sure that there is plenty you can be getting on with" She rose from the table, mustering all her dignity and throwing a look at the under butler that would reduce even the most impertinent housemaid to tears. "And if you run out of things to do, remember few things illustrate self-control as vividly as New Year's resolutions Mr Barrow. Maybe you should make some."

-0-

"Ah, Carson, Mrs Hughes" Lord Grantham looked up from what he was writing Mrs Hughes swallowed, her heart sinking. What was coming next? And, more importantly how would Mr Carson react if his Lordship said they couldn't stay on? As random thoughts do at these moments, the thought of Thomas Barrow's smug expression and _told you so_ attitude went through her mind as being the worst possible outcome of this meeting.

"Now" Said Lord Grantham "I cannot lie; this _situation_ is not ideal. Butlers, housekeepers, marriage, simply do not mix." He raised his hand as saw a question, maybe a challenge rise in the housekeeper's eyes. "However", he nodded at them. "I have thought long and hard since we spoke the other day; I have been convinced by my wife, daughters and son in law that in a changing world there is no reason why you cannot, in theory at least , marry and stay on. Even my mother appears taken with the romance of the situation and this is the woman who, if you recall complained about the selfishness of her own maid leaving – to get married!" the relief of the two senior staff sat in front of him was palpable.

"Thank you, m'lord"

The door opened quietly and the Countess entered. "Carson, Mrs Hughes!" she greeted them warmly, a contrast to her husband's formality of a few minutes before. "Do accept our congratulations! Now Robert, why the formality? Poor Carson and Mrs Hughes are stood here like naughty children! "She gestured for them to sit.

"Oh, yes, please do. I suppose I shall feel as if I am reprimanding you if you remain standing" he attempted a weak smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"I do hope, Robert, that you have been magnanimous in your congratulations and reassured Mrs Hughes and Mr Carson that we are genuinely happy for them both?" she raised her eyebrow and Mrs Hughes breathed a sigh of relief. The battle was won now the Countess was so much on their side. "Now, what can we do to help? This is indeed a new state of affairs, though I believe it is not so unusual in the States these days and Anna and Bates seem to have made it work. Have you set a date?"

-0-

"Well" Mrs Hughes stopped and leant into her fiancé as the green baize door closed behind them. "From having nothing but a room each only a few weeks ago, we now have the investment on Brounckar Road _and_ the promise of a retirement cottage in the grounds. I wasn't expecting that!"

"Nor I! Very generous of them, I thought….we only went for their blessing to stay on."

"Mm." She agreed "but a shrewd investment in keeping us here for life!" she smiled to show that she meant no malice by this "And the Dowager's blessing it seems… It's all very exciting isn't it?"

-0-

Mr Branson had shaken Carson warmly by the hand on hearing the news and hugged the housekeeper warmly. It was she who had been his stalwart supporter downstairs and had encouraged acceptance of his transition from chauffeur to family. He admired her attitude to the modern world and was genuinely pleased at the news. He would miss her and it cost him nothing to admit it. "I wish you every happiness" he said sincerely "I only wish I could be here to give you away Mrs Hughes" she blushed and hugged him to her as Mr Carson bent down to Miss Sybbie and handed over a bag of sweets he had bought for her in the village yesterday "for the journey " he whispered. In turn the little girl smiled and hugged him. Mrs Hughes looked fondly down as her fiancé produced half a crown from behind his ear and flamboyantly presented it to the little girl. _Once a showman, always a showman._ He had always been fond of this, the eldest Crawley grandchild; much as she herself had held both Sybil and Tom in high esteem. Her mind wandered back to the afternoon she had returned from the fair and found Mr Carson in the drawing room, giving baby Sybbie a tour of the house.

A sob caught in her throat. Partly at the parting from Mr Branson and his lovely child; partly at the thought of what a wonderful father, grandfather Mr Carson would have been.

Tom Branson's throat ached as he turned away from the two people who had, for so long been the downstairs parents. Carson's disapproval had abated a little over the years, but he would truly Miss Mrs Hughes. He walked slowly through the halls of Downton, Sybbie's hand in his as he committed the house to memory. There was no doubt in his mind that he was doing the right thing in moving to Boston. The right thing for him and his daughter; their future. Sybbie was a Crawley, always would be and Downton would always be home. Strange, he would never have thought that a great English house would be more home than Ireland to a working class boy from Cork. Sybil would have loved the way things had turned out. They would be back.

Who knew how long they would stay in the States but for now it was the place for them; he wanted to be part of the great American dream; to make a future of their own and to seize new opportunities without any of the underlying prejudice that was still there, not just as a "social climbing" servant – that had been shown at the Brancaster house party- but also as someone Irish. His cousin wrote that many in Boston were in fact Irish and it was a welcoming community of equality and opportunity. In any case the Crawleys would be over to visit and transatlantic flight seemed now to be a possibility- maybe as close as 2-3 years away. He just hoped that Mrs Levinson didn't decide to be too much a part of her great granddaughters life in America. Much as he had come to admire and even love Cora, her mother was another kettle of fish as Mrs Patmore would say. Never had he been so grateful for the distance between New York and Boston! His cousin was well settled and had a position lined up for Tom, while his cousins wife was more than happy to mind Sybbie alongside her own small fry.

It would be an adventure and a chance to get back to his love of engineering and mechanics. Around the start of the century, Boston had been caught up in the automobile revolution, and was home to the Porter Motor Company who would be his new employers. Not as a driver this time, but as a designer.

-0-

The house was silent, shrouded in the hush of a quiet afternoon. Many of the staff had taken their half day. The family were in Liverpool, seeing Mr Branson and young Miss Sybbie off and there was a new picture on in Ripon. Daisy and Mrs Patmore had gone to visit Mr Mason on the farm.

Mr Carson balanced a tea tray on his hand and tapped lightly on her door, she closed the ledger she was working on as he entered and turned her chair "Oh, that's a welcome sight!" she said, "It's taken me ages to get this to balance"

"What is a welcome sight? The tea or me?" he flirted, enjoying this freedom to tease her.

"The tea, definitely!" she laughed "I do hope Mrs Patmore and Daisy are able to get home today" She looked anxiously out at the snow starting to fall outside; wet, grey snow, the type to make life miserable; not the fresh, crisp, fluffy snow of her childhood memories.

"Mrs Hughes, as the family are away, I wondered if you would be free to take a stroll into the village with me this afternoon?"

"Good heavens Mr Carson, that sounded like a rehearsed speech!"

"Well, I thought now things are clearer with the family, we may have a wander to the rectory and discuss dates?" He raised an eyebrow questioningly.

She looked up at him, her feelings in her eyes. He drew closer, bending down to kiss her. Inches away and suddenly they jumped back as a deafening clatter shocked them.

"Good grief"

"What on earth?"

They dashed out into the corridor to find a wriggling , giggling mass heaped at the foot of the stairs. Memories of Mr Bates ungracious tumble some weeks back were mercifully abated by two cheeky faces unjumbling themselves.

"Children!" chided Mrs Hughes gently as she went to pick them up "are you all alright? You could have really hurt yourselves"

"We're fine" George announced rather grandly, dusting himself down and running a quick glance over his younger cousin before adding "Yes, we are absolutely tiptop…and how are you both?" Mrs Hughes bit her lip to stop the giggle threatening to break out; she had seen the twinkle in Mr Carsons eye and knew that he too was amused.

Marigold sniffed, evidently fighting back the tears that threatened but which she didn't want to shed for fear of losing face next to the bravado of her playmate. Elsie bent and gathered her up, sensitive to this poor child, like her mother destined to be the cuckoo in the nest; the odd one out.

"It's lovely to see you" she said smiling down at the children "but what, may I ask, brings you downstairs?"

"We were bored" announced George. "We came to play"

"Ah, but, um.." Mr Carson blustered.

"That's' lovely. We're very pleased indeed to see you, but where is Nanny? She will wonder where you are"

"She won't" said George "She's poorly and I'm hungry. Are there any biscuits?" and with that he toddled confidently towards the kitchen.

"Oh" whispered Mr Carson "what do we do?"

"What you do now, is go and give them milk and biscuits while I check on Nanny. Then we'll see. If the poor woman is ill, we can keep them for the afternoon. The nursemaid has gone with the others to the picture house and should be back just before six"

Nanny did prove to have a bad dose of flu and a delightful afternoon was spent in Mrs Hughes sitting room. As Mr Carson enchanted the children – and Mrs Hughes - with magic tricks a contented calm fell on downstairs. _This is how grandparents feel_. Marigold had instinctively edged towards the housekeeper and now sat snuggled in her lap. Her head fell back and she seemed to doze. Looking up and catching sight of the scene in front of him, the butler caught his breath. _This is how grandparents feel_. He rose,

"Now, Master George" said Mr Carson "Do you play draughts? I have a board in my pantry which I will go and fetch"

"What's that?" asked a bright eyed and curious little boy, showing none of the fatigue of his playmate and following eagerly.

A little voice piped up softly "I miss Sybbie, Mrs Hughes. Will she be home soon?"

"No, not very soon, though I am sure you will see her before long" assured the housekeeper "and you will just have to keep busy and have lots of adventures and make lots of memories to tell her about" An idea formed in her mind and she lifted the child gently to the floor as she gathered paper, scissors and pencils from her desk. "Now, this is something my sister and I used to do…."

She started to fold paper into a concertina as Mr Carson set up the draught board with an excited George in the background. Marigold leant her elbows on the table and watched, fascinated as the concertina of paper was cut into little people and then unfolded to show them in a line, holding hands. The little girl clapped in delight "– it's me and George and Sybbie and you and Mr Carson!"

"Do you want to decorate them? Then we can make another set which you could send to Miss Sybbie"

The delight on the child's face showed that she was pleased. Something so simple had made such a difference. Mrs Hughes heart ached for this child. She was truly delightful.

-0-

Mid-January brought heavy snow. Daisy and Mrs Patmore trudged back from the village late one afternoon. A companionable silence between them as they saw the Abbey lights in the distance. Seeing the opportunity for a quiet chat slipping away, Daisy took a deep breath and spoke:

"I've been thinking about what you said before Christmas, about me carrying on learning. _I've never been special to anyone. I were only ever special to William_. Now I want to make summat of meself - Carry on with it. I know you didn't rate Miss Bunting but I saw what it could be … to you know be learned so I've signed up for a course it's mainly by correspondence but I may need to use the odd half day to go to the technical college in Harrogate… what do you think?"

"Well, I'm pleased for you Daisy. Really I am. Will they teach you punctuation do you think?"

"Dunno. I would think so …why?"

"You might apply it when you talk. Carry on like this and you'll expire in a soufflé! ….Oh, and Daisy? You _are_ special you know."

-0-

**A/N: Tempting as it is to get carried away and keep writing this kind of brings January to a close (or we'll be in March before I upload it!) In Feb we will get to see the cottage in the grounds and a lot more besides!**

**I hope you enjoyed x**


	3. February 1925

**February**

There is nothing permanent except change.

Heraclitus

-0-

"Ah, Carson" Lord Grantham leant against the fireplace in the library as Lady Mary nodded encouragingly from the sofa. "I – we - have given consideration to your – um – living arrangements once you and Mrs Hughes are married. Mrs Hughes informs Lady Cora that you have arranged a date for early April?" the Butler inclined his head in agreement. As you know we are planning a trip to see Tom, and Cora's family – " (a slight roll of the eyes to his eldest daughter at this latter) "- around Easter so that should work out well; give you time to settle into married life."

"Thank you milord."

"There are a couple of properties on the estate which may suit you. A cottage next to the Bates' should be available by mid-March or…" he paused, looking again to Mary for reassurance "Lady Mary seems to think that the old North Lodge may be more you. I have to disagree. It has been empty some time…but you are welcome to look over both and decide, and obviously the Estate will meet any costs incurred in making your chosen place habitable."

-0-

Elsie Hughes sighed contentedly as she tucked her arm tighter into the grip of the man at her side. She must have been this way before in the years she had spent at the Abbey, but it was in the opposite direction to the village and so there was a delightful seclusion and sense of privacy; something she had felt missing from the cottage adjoining the Bates'. They had opted to look at this first. Partly as Mr Carson felt Lady Mary would be right; partly as the other cottage was still both tenanted and identical to Anna's so she knew what to expect.

She gasped as the lodge came into view. He looked at her, tucking his pocket watch away with a satisfied smile: "15 minutes slow walk" he said. "I'd say that was about right wouldn't you?" She nodded as she took in a most charming and characterful period detached property; the quintessential country lodge in miniature. A real 'chocolate box' cottage, approached through magnificent wrought iron gates featuring stunning carved stone flowers, surrounded by magnificent countryside, it yearned to be loved. The boarded windows gazed back at her sadly and the slipped tiles on the roof spoke of neglect. Yes, it was absolutely perfect.

"The North Gate Lodge was originally built in 1831. I remember coming in this way as a child when I came with my father to see the groom. It was always a lovely little cottage, but I've not been this way in years. When his Lordships father acquired more land in the 1890's the park was remodelled, which in effect split the estate, so that it no longer functioned as an entrance lodge. It was tenanted for many years, but must have been empty a while. I certainly can't remember anyone living there recently and his Lordship seemed to think it was in a bad way."

"Well we can only look – no room for your mythical maid of all work then?" she teased.

"I don't need one" he chuckled "I'll have my very own housekeeper" he swung her towards him and kissed her firmly on the cheek. She blushed, delighted in this new confidence. Increasingly over the past few weeks he had held her hand, held her gaze a second or two longer, had given her a gentle chaste kiss on the cheek. Touches that spoke a million words, assured her that – although he had yet to say the words – he loved her. Touches that left her flustered, wanting more. How had she become so greedy she wondered; years without touch, without romance and now she wanted him near her all the time; couldn't seem to speak to him without a gentle touch to his arm, his face, whenever she could steal a moment.

It was getting harder with each day to part at night. Whilst the thought of not parting made her blush she felt such an emptiness in her as she parted from him at the split in the stairs. She knew he felt the same as they both tried to stifle yawns and eke out the evening as long as possible, trying to avoid the fatigue which threatened to overwhelm them.

Her eyes filled with tears as he fiancé unlocked the front door. He grasped her hand firmly, tears in his eyes too as he whispered the rhetorical question "home?" she nodded, overwhelmed with happiness. Reaching up to kiss him, she gasped as instead he scooped her up in his arms and literally swept her off her feet as he carried her over the threshold of their new home.

There followed a delightful hour of laughter, stolen kisses, and dreams of the future.

The cottage was bigger than it had first seemed: in addition to a generous hallway, there was a parlour, kitchen with pantry off, and small bedroom downstairs. Encouraged by his plans at Brounckar Road, he already had plans to transform this room into a bathroom with all modern conveniences. Upstairs they found a landing with surprisingly clear views of the Abbey, and two bedrooms - "room for Becky to visit" he said with such acceptance and belief. She had never loved him more than she did in that moment.

Finally tearing themselves away from the cottage which was already improved by the hasty removal of some of the boarding they headed outside to explore, finidng an attached stone workshop with coal store, gardens front and back – overgrown but with such potential and a log store.

-0-

The naked winter trees lined the avenue. Daisy's breath rose in visible puffs to join the darkened clouded night sky. There was a freezing chill in the air bringing crispness to the leaves, bejewelled with frost, that crunched underfoot. Rosy cheeked, she stamped to keep warm, pulling her hat over our reddened ears and tightening scarves over her blue-tinged lips. Teeth chatterig and the cold seeping into her gloves numbed her fingers until they ceased to bend properly, stiffened and frigid. She felt as if she was walking on Cloud Nine. Her first day at the college in Harrogate had been incredible. She was older than a lot of the girls and grateful for looking younger. Some were from middle class backgrounds, daughters of doctors, solicitors and the like, but that had not mattered. She had worried about it before coming, and Mrs Patmore's words had stayed with her. "You live in one of the greatest houses in England my girl, remember that!"

Suddenly the illuminated Abbey appeared, and she picked up her pace, keen to report on her day, the things she had learned, the way she had felt alive in the classroom; the excitement she had felt at receiving her new course books and a new, crisp blank exercise book to write in. She had a list of tasks to complete by correspondence and was already looking forward to next month.

The girls on the course had, in the main, been friendly, chattering and getting to know one another. She resolved to ask Miss Baxter to help her make a new dress in the latest fashions. She had felt a little dowdy next to them and was so looking forward to having friends her own age. An emptiness had settled in her as they talked of Valentine's Day and their hopes of receiving post from young men; an emptiness which was replaced by guilt once again. When asked if she had a young man, she had shaken her head shyly.

The face that had come into her head was not William's, but Andy's. She blushed at her silliness and determined to keep this area of conversation well out of her account to Mrs Patmore!

-0-

"Mr Bates", said Anna wearily one evening as they walked back to the cottage "Do you think we should start afresh somewhere new?"

"Why?" he asked "I thought you were happy here? I know we talked about something in the future, but why not just enjoy the present and worry about that later?"

"I don't know. I feel as if I am constantly jumping at shadows, a sense of foreboding I suppose, that something or someone is just lurking in the background waiting to steal our happiness"

"That's just Thomas "he joked

"Don't you feel it? Cold, threatening…" she shivered

"I know what you mean. When I was released I kept looking over my shoulder too, but they can't…not now…there's no evidence….we just need to concentrate on being together, being happy." He squeezed her arm reassuringly, but looking down at her was concerned at the haunted look of fear etched on her face. They walked in silence for a few minutes; not their normal comfortable silence, but one of discomfort….the _something_ she feared weighing heavily between them.

"Do you think we should move away? Start afresh?" She asked "Now your mother's house has sold we could? People in the village stare, even in church I feel their eyes on us wondering at the coincidence of both of us having been in jail…. A new start could be good for us. Just Mr and Mrs Bates, no past. Just a future. We could adopt and no one would know…."

"I don't know" he sighed, unlocking the cottage door "Maybe. It needs thought."

-0-

**February Part 2: Be My Valentine**

It was a chill mid-February, of tangled thickets of lifeless thorn; when the branches of the ash tree were been black with buds so tight that it seemed impossible that they could ever crack into greenness; and the thin denuded wands of willow, drooping over the canal, had cut delicate feathers on the quickening stream. But a love light shone hope on Downton.

She had spent any free time in the days before crafting a valentine. She never lied, but would have been omitting to tell the e truth had she said she had never thought of leaving him an anonymous _billet doux_ in the years past, but she also knew it would have flustered him, feared he would have worked out it was from her and considered her foolish. That above all else was something she could never have overcome. This year it was different. Young love, by age and years had passed them by, but by definition and truth this was young love; new to them, full of promise - and she was going to enjoy every part of it. So, in the interests of living a little she had set to on her little project.

He had once mentioned that he liked the way she had trimmed a day dress in red braid. She'd kept what was left of the braid. Only a few inches were left, but her mother's thrifty nature you never know when it may come in handy had stayed with her. She smiled now as she took it out. You never knew, but who'd have thought. It was the perfect size to trim her card. She'd found out an old staff photo of them from years before. A proof, it had been rejected for its informality, but she had retrieved it and held it close for over a decade. He was looking down at her with what she had always believed – and now knew - to be fondness in his eyes. She in turn was looking up at him, laughter in her eyes. A truly unspoilt moment, frozen in time.

She added some tiny shells that she had gathered that day in Brighton, that day he had held her hand and she had lost her heart completely to hope. Then, finally happy with her artistry, she had written her message in her neatest calligraphy.

Tonight though she hoped he would be tired, give her chance to unlock the door to the men's corridor and slide her card beneath his door for him to find in the morning.

-0-

"Mr Barrow?" asked Andy finding his mentor alone in the staff dining room one afternoon "I was wondering about Daisy?"

"Mm mm?" Barrow smiled, seemingly innocuously "What about her?"

"Well, I was wondering…do you know if, if. If she is well, walking out with anyone?"

Barrow drew air in through his teeth and leant back in his chair, shaking his head gently. "well no, not that I'm aware of" he said, leaning forward to light a cigarette in defiance of the house rules " but…" he beckoned the young footman in to his confidence "I'd be careful there – she's a widow you know, married only hours, but a nice army pension for life" he paused raising his eyebrow, letting his implication register, before continuing"… keeps the ex-father in law in cakes. He's got a fair sized small holding up the dale…"

Andy's face fell. Without another word he turned and walked away. Not Daisy, surely….?

-0-

A single rose on her desk with a card attached: _My darling Valentine -meet me at the cottage at noon_ X

How had he managed to free them both up at lunchtime she wondered, finding herself almost skipping down the path to the cottage just before noon. As it came into sight she gasped. Already the roof was re slated and windows repaired. Of Mr Carson there was no sign and her heart sank a little. She had looked for him before she left the Abbey and had assumed he had already left. Maybe he was delayed. Vexed that she had no key she tried the door and entered the cottage to find a blazing hearth and picnic laid on a table near the fire.

Suddenly she felt his presence behind her.

"A kiss on Valentine's day is said to bring luck all year" he whispered in her ear, his breath warm on her neck.

Tentatively he put his hand on her waist. Her heart racing, she turned. "Alone at last" she whispered, reaching up and placing a soft, tender kiss on his lips. His hold on her waist tightened and he pulled her closer. Never breaking eye contact, they stood, lost in the wonder of this moment, this all embracing love that threatened to overwhelm them. As their lips met again in a kiss that shook the ground they stood on, she instinctively wound her arms around his neck. Neither had ever known anything like it. Unsettling, unbelievable, truly wonderful a searing, searching kiss that spoke of wasted years yet seemed to last forever; a kiss which promised eternity.

-0-

"Oooh Daisy, you're like a bear with a sore head girl. Whatever's the matter?"

"It's Valentine's Day and once again, I'm alone!"

"Oh well, never mind – you've got your learning and was that a new book I saw you reading this morning when you should've been rolling the pastry? At least you know where your book will be come bedtime"

"Don't you have any romance left in you Mrs Patmore?"

"Well, I can tell you a few things about Valentines if you want me to….according to tradition, a child born on Valentine's Day will have many lovers – and don't go saying you wish it were your birthday neither. A calf born on Valentine's Day, however, would be of no use for breeding purposes. If hens were to hatch eggs on Valentine's Day, they would all turn out rotten … so not all good is it?" and she was gone.

"Rotten eggs? How unromantic." Daisy sighed returning to her pastry.

-0-

_Phew, well that's February! Sorry , but Thomas needed to meddle again! _

_I thought about uploading the Valentine section separately but they seemed to work better this way. _

_Thank you for all your lovely comments and support – they mean a lot and really do make a difference! I look forward to reading your thoughts on this update._

X


	4. Chapter 4: March 1925

**March**

The thoughts of leaving Downton persisted with Anna. Mr Bates seemed reluctant to countenance it. Seemed happy to carry on as they had before, but she couldn't shake this foreboding. She sighed deeply as she did Lady Mary's hair one morning and her employer swivelled round to look at her.

"Anna, what's the matter?" she asked, concerned "You don't seem yourself these days."

"Oh milady, I'm sorry. I'll be fine." She smiled tightly, an attempt at reassurance, but Lady Mary was having none of it. Often insensitive of others, she cared deeply for Anna and whilst she couldn't comprehend the trauma her maid had been through, she felt that she did have at least some understanding. She had seen what it was like for Anna in prison (only a snapshot admittedly, but even so it had been ghastly) and she understood the pain of losing a husband (what she would have given for Matthew to be serving a jail sentence accused of murdering a former wife rather than the permanence of her loss) so she wasn't going to let this go.

"Anna – sit and tell me. It can't be that bad! After all you've been through, surely most things are a mere bump in the road."

Tears sprang unbidden to Anna's eyes as she sat and started to talk.

-0—

"No! I understand that you are feeling low after your ordeal, and that things may seem awkward with you and Bates, but no Anna, I see no reason at all for you to leave Downton." She paused, considering "I tell you what, we are planning, as you know, a trip to the States. We will spend a few days in New York with grandmamma before motoring up to Boston to see Tom and Sybbie. After that we shall all go to Newport for a few weeks. We will need to take a maid and valet. You and Bates come with us. We'll make sure it's not all work and no play. You can take a holiday whilst we are there. That will sort you out. Make you feel better. There we are – sorted!"

-0—0-

"Mrs Patmore, do you have any plans for your half day on Thursday?"

"No, none. Though I must sort a little something for my sister's birthday. Why?"

"I wondered if you fancied a shopping trip into Ripon. It's market day on Thursday and I could do with finding some fabric to run up some curtains for the cottage. With you having already "done" your cottage, I'd be grateful for some advice."

"Ooh, that's a lovely idea. You know, we've never done that. Given ourselves a day shopping together….feels a bit decadent don't it, but fun – watch out Ripon I say! Daisy can deal with lunch here – 'appens there's only Lady Edith at home on Thursday so we could go early and have a bite of lunch at the Unicorn. It'd be nice to be cooked for for once!"

"Oh, I don't know…"

"Oh for heaven's sake woman, it's been there 600 years and not fallen down yet. Let's live a little! Enjoy your last few weeks as a single woman!"

Later they would both wonder why they had never taken a half day like this before. It _had_ been fun. Elsie had found the perfect fabric for her sitting room and bedroom curtains. While her Ladyship had been more than generous with the offer to take stuff stored in the attic, she wanted some new touches to her home; to craft her own touches as well. It would be a labour of love to sit and stitch these curtains over the coming weeks. A taste of the domesticity to come in their evenings together.

Fabric purchased, they had sought out a birthday gift for Mrs Patmore's sister and giggling like school girls enjoyed the simple pleasures of window shopping.

As they headed back to the bus, Mrs Hughes stopped suddenly. Drawn, almost as if by a magnetic force to a shop window. In the middle of the bay window was the most exquisite dress she had ever seen.

Almost translucent ivory silk it seemed to shimmer in a life of its own. It had a square cut neck in the latest fashion and full chiffon sleeves floating to the elbow. The cut was deceptively simple. A straight panel to the front gave way to kick pleats at both sides. Even on the mannequin it was obvious that the dress would swing stylishly with the slightest movement. The embroidery and beadwork was superb.

Looking at the enraptured look on her friends face, Beryl Patmore nudged her gently. "So what are you wearing to your wedding then?"

Coming to, Elsie took one last look and started to move away from the window. "My blue suit" she said "it's still fairly new and will be fine" Her friend trotted to catch up

"Don't you think, I mean your wedding day? The suit is lovely of course, but isn't it a bit, y'know…practical?"

"No, it would be silly, extravagant and wherever would I be able to wear anything like that again? Ivory isn't exactly practical now is it? Now come on or we'll miss the bus!"

-0—0-

"Mrs Patmore!" sobbed Daisy, a week later, falling into the kitchen the afternoon of her course. She was drenched to the skin, her teeth chattering and her skin grey. She looked petrified and shook all over. The cook, horrified, rushed to her and caught her in her arms.

"Good grief girl, whatever is the matter?" She asked, shooing away the multitude of curious faces which surrounded them. "Lily – make some tea! Maisy – don't let that sauce spoil!" she ordered taking the shaking Daisy firmly by the arm and guiding her to Mrs Hughes sitting room. The housekeeper was out and Mrs Patmore had never been more grateful to find the door ajar. Whatever had happened to Daisy it wasn't good, and she was not going to give those good for nothing kitchen maids fodder for gossip.

" Here you go – a nice cuppa" she said pressing the cup of hot, sweet tea into Daisy's hands. The sobbing had eased and she was starting to warm through. "Now whatever is the matter?"

Daisy started, looking up with fear in her eyes "Where's Anna?" she asked, fear in her voice.

"What that's got to do with the price of butter I don't know! She and Mr Bates went into York this afternoon. Shopping and a matinee I think." She replied. Seeing the younger woman's shoulders sag in relief she asked "Why? I think you'd better tell me what is going on madam. Did something happen at college? I knew education was asking…"

"No!" Daisy interrupted firmly "It were great. I had a lovely day, and it were easier today to talk to some of the other girls. They were talking about going to…. Oh, but that's not what was horrible at all. It were when I was on my way home. I was later than I hoped and wanted to get back to help you with dinner…"

"And?"

"And so I took the shortcut through the churchyard. Then I thought I'd stop by William's grave – it seemed right somehow….anyway I'd just stopped and …" she shivered and grasped the teacup between her hands tightly, clinging on as if it would help her or at least give her warmth.

"Go on then! Spit it out! You'd stopped and…"

Daisy took a deep breath and began her story: "Silent!" cried a terrible voice, as a man started up from among the graves at the side of the church porch. "Keep still, or I'll cut your throat!"

A fearful man, all in coarse grey, with no hat, and with broken shoes, and with an old rag tied round his head. He was filthy and unshaven and his eyes were mad.

"Do you work at the Abbey?" he asked

"Oh my Lord Daisy - and what did you say?"

""Well, yes of course"

"Tell us your name!" said the man. "And do you know Anna Smith?"

"Anna Bates she is, but yes…" Oh, Mrs Patmore did I do the wrong thing? I were so scared of him. He wanted to know where Anna was, where she lives, when he could find her… I just said I din't know.

He came up closer, took me by both arms, - she paused and pulling the blanket aside rolled her sleeves up to reveal bruises where her arms had been held forcibly - and shouted at me to tell him where she was….Oh Mrs Patmore, I were so scared he were going to hurt me. I wished so much that William was with me….it was so much worse see, it happening there by his grave and him being unable to help…and Anna….." She sobbed. The cook flustered, angry, appalled, was – unusually, lost for words.

Daisy hugged her shuddering body in both her arms – drawing her knees up and clasping them to herself, as if to hold herself together.

Mrs Hughes had come in silently and stood listening to what Daisy had to say. "Gosh, it sounds terrifying. And in Downton….we must inform the police, and I think that Anna and Mr Bates need to be told. How would you best describe the man's appearance Daisy?"

"Magwitch" she said, the light of recognition dawning "It were Magwitch in the graveyard."

"By 'eck lass, with a name like that he should be easy found though why you didn't tell me you know him before…the world is full of barmpots" Mrs Patmore bustled out, leaving the housekeeper and junior cook to share a look.*

-0-0-

"Missith Hughes" lisped Marigold in her engaging way "we heard you say you and Mr Carson ith going to see your cottage. Can we come?"

It was bittersweet seeing the children exploring the house. They had skipped happily down the path holding hands, excited at this unexpected adventure. Marigold grinned and loosened her hold on the housekeeper as the cottage came into view "it's so pretty" she lisped shyly "like it's out of a fairy-tale.

The proud owners of the cottage shared a smile over the children's heads; they were delighted with the cottage. Decorated in traditional style, it was simple, eclectic and, most importantly, comfortable. Cosy, homely, their refuge, it showed little evidence of being largely furnished from the attics at the Abbey. They had managed to find small pieces, perfect for their needs. Elsie squeezed her hand tightly in his. She had had his favourite armchair brought down only this morning and settled by the fireplace, perfect for relaxing or reading. This chair had been with him since he became Butler and would fit perfectly. In fact, their whole home was an emotional reflection of them. An honest look into their lives, past and future, romantic but without frills or fuss.

It was truly lovely to see these children who had grown up only knowing the grandeur and luxury of the Abbey, respond to the simple delights of their home. Once inside they explored, uninhibited, gasping at discoveries and finding a plethora of hiding places. Scrambling upstairs and down, they squealed in delight at each new find. A complicit smile between the adults could not allay the tears that threatened Elsie as she watched them play. She swallowed. Hard. Several times. This was lovely. Perfect. This is what their home could have been. Maybe.

Nanny collected the children and tore them away reluctantly in time for Nursery tea. George started to protest "but we've had…."

"…a good play" interrupted Mr Carson with a wink. Ever astute, George realised just in time that admitting they had already had cake and sweets could cost them dear at teatime. He winked back and joining hands with Nanny bounced off down the path towards the Abbey. Both children kept turning, waving as long as they were in sight.

"You're very fond of them aren't you? "He asked gently putting his hand on her shoulder as they stood waving in the doorway "especially Miss Marigold"

"I am that, Mr Carson" she said softly leaning into him "She is so like her mother. I do feel for the poor wee bairn, the cuckoo in the nest."

"Her mother? But isn't she a foundling?" he was finding it hard to concentrate on anything, with her so close; his arms wrapped tentatively round her and he sighed as she snuggled closer, before turning to catch his eye.

"Oh, Mr Carson, look at her, look at Lady Edith. Can't you see something of Michael Gregson in her?" she raised her finger to his lip "No, don't bluster. That child was born out of love. I have no doubt that Mr Gregson was a man of honour and would have married Lady Edith had he been able. We will never know the full story, but does it really matter? The children are adorable and they seem rather taken with us; for now that is more than enough. Now, we have curtains to hang before the light goes and we need to head back!" Kissing her softly on the head he reluctantly let her go.

A short while later, he made his way upstairs with two cups of tea. The sitting room curtains were up and the room was now so homely. He loved the fact that she had insisted on making as much as she could for their home.

Now entering their bedroom, a thought that still made him feel a little uneasy, he saw that she had finished. The last of the evening sunlight caught her hair, auburn highlights glinting and taking twenty years off her, as she straightened the curtains. "There," she smiled " they should hang out nicely if we leave the tiebacks off for now." He caught himself floundering, as he drank in the radiance of the woman before him; he felt slightly dizzy as he placed the tea on the side; not these thoughts, not here, not in their bedroom, not yet…

Oh to hell with that he thought, catching her in his arms and kissing her. She responded ardently and this emboldened him. Gone were the straight laced Butler and Housekeeper of Downton Abbey. In their place, two people very much in love and three weeks away from being married. His kisses grew more and more passionate; rather than pulling away, she wrapped her arms around his neck, moved closer and deepened the kiss yet further. A fire new to both of them threatened to consume them. He knew he must put a stop to this now, however tempting it was to continue…

-0-0-

TBC…;-)

-0—0-

**A/N:**

Thank you for all your lovely comments so far. I really appreciate them – please keep them coming!

*_Great Expectations,_ Charles Dickens – I chose this for several reasons. Firstly I think there is something of Pip in Daisy and I think that by 1925, she does have great expectations for her future. It also reflects Daisy's interest in books and gives her and Elsie common ground whilst bypassing poor Mrs P (It's also one of my all time favourites, but that's irrelevant!)

I think there is also the unresolved issue of Anna's menacing stepfather from the CS which this picks up on (and which will develop in later chapters)

I edited the scene at the end, I had had a debate about mattress preferences which was flirtatious and humorous in my head, but came out a bit seedy when I wrote it down…I'll leave you to ponder that one!


	5. April 1925

**April**

**A spring wedding! Grab a cup of tea (or champagne if you're really in wedding mode – and settle in) A very Chelsie centric chapter this time! Been braver with some of the content than I've ever tried before! Hope you enjoy and as ever please review!**

-0-

_Elspeth May Hughes and Charles Edward Carson_

_Invite_

_You to join us at the celebration of our marriage_

_At_

_Downton Parish Church_

_On Saturday 18__th__ April 1925_

_At 11 am_

_-0-_

"It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages" (Nietzsche)

-0-

Elsie Hughes awoke early on the morning of her wedding; whether by force of habit or sheer excitement she didn't know. Her last morning as a single woman and she had firm instructions from both Anna and Mrs Patmore to stay put. Whatever, she must not run the risk of running into Mr Carson this morning. Never though had she felt so restless, wanted to see him so much.

She looked at the blue suit on the door and felt a slight twinge of regret that she woud never be the fairytale bride of every girls dream , but at least she would wear blue; the new would be the new undergarments she had treated herself to; the old, her mother's brooch; and Mrs Patmore had, last evening, handed her a fine handkerchief delicately trimmed with lace, so she had the borrowed covered too.

A tap at the door heralded the arrival of Anna. She had been expecting the younger woman, but not Miss Baxter or Mrs Patmore who followed her in. Miss Baxter handed a large cloth cover to Anna as the cook banished the old, faithful blue suit to the suitcase lying open on the bed.

A gasp came from the housekeeper as the cover was lifted.

"Oh, Anna, Miss Baxter!" she gasped before launching herself at her friend and grabbing Beryl in a fierce hug "it's the dress! But even more perfect than it was…how?" It was a perfect copy of the exquisite dress that had captivated her in Ripon, but in the palest of blues and delicately trimmed with bugle beads in the latest fashion. The fabric was delicate, almost iridescent, it had a purply hue in some lights, but ever practical, Elsie knew that while it was her dream wedding dress, it would be worn many times in the years to come. Bell shaped chiffon sleeves floated delicately to the elbow and it fell into a delicate, floaty handkerchief hem. A satin sash accentuated the drop waist, and 24 satin covered buttons ran down the back. "One for each year at Downton; each year you have known him" said Mrs Patmore proudly. She had evidently been chief design consultant and was rightly proud of her work! _One for each year I have loved him_, she thought, tears threatening as she took in the detail, the care, the love that had gone into this wonderful dress.

"I told Miss Baxter here how much you loved it, she went and had a look and copied it – it's your wedding gift from all of us."

Tears came to the cook's eyes as she saw her friend in the dress. "It's perfect" they whispered in unison.

"Oh, Miss Baxter you're so clever. I never thought I would be a bride, let alone wear something as lovely as this" sighed Mrs Hughes. Anna smiled as she handed over a small bouquet; trimmed with ribbon to match the dress, as she now noticed the corsages that all the women wore were, it was a posy of seasonal flowers: freesias, cornflowers, lisianthus. Understated, but beautiful.

-0-

Mr Carson stood impatiently at the altar awaiting his bride. He fiddled nervously with the pale blue silk tie that Bates had insisted he swap for the one he had been wearing. He had no idea what was going on; downstairs had been in a real state of flux this morning. Mrs Patmore was all nerves and excitement, she and Anna were up to something he was sure; though neither would tell him how Elsie was. God, he'd missed her the last 24 hours.

Suddenly the church organ started and he turned towards the back of the church. Mr Bates shifted at the side of him, nodding his support. He caught his breath as he saw her enter nervously on Lord Grantham's arm. She was _a vision of perfection, so much so that he felt his heart freeze when she looked at him and smiled._

_You still manage to take my breath away. I love you, it is a spell that you have cast on me I know, and I hope that it continues to weave its magic forever_.

Afterwards, they would each reflect on the service that bound them forever as husband and wife and look back to the private thoughts and intense emotions that had interspersed their vows; the vows they had sat in this very church and heard so many others say before them, never hoping, never daring to dream, that someday it would be their turn.

-0-

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in God's presence to witness and to celebrate the marriage of Charles Edward Carson and Elspeth May Hughes, and to ask God to bless them so that they may be strengthened for their life together. We are called to rejoice in their happiness, and find in their love a reason to renew our own commitments to those whom are near and dear to each of us."

_Sometimes in life when we finally find that special someone, we want nothing more than to be with them and spend all our hours with them; you are mine forever, I want us to be together there for each other no matter what. _

_I know that I love you even more with each passing day. I will love your forever._

"God gave us marriage for the full expression of love between a man and a woman so that husband and wife may cherish and delight in one another; comfort and help each other in sickness, trouble and sorrow; provide for each other in temporal things; pray for and encourage each other in the things that pertain to God; and live together faithfully all the length of their days."

The hymns and readings flew past in a blur of emotions. _All Things Bright and Beautiful_ – chosen for Becky, her favourite hymn. It had been a heart wrenching decision not to invite Becky, but she would have had to be collected, taken back, introduced to new, strange surroundings and people who she didn't know, and from experience, who would stare. It would be easier to have her for a visit once she and Mr Carson had met, got to know one another and they were fully settled in the cottage.

-0-

"Charles Edward Carson will you have this Woman to be your wife, and will you promise your life to her in all love and honour, in all duty and service, in all faith and tenderness, to live with her, cherish her, according to the ordinance of God, in the holy bond of marriage?"

"I will"

_You were right to call me an old booby the night I proposed, only a fool would have waited so long to say these words. I will cherish you more than you will ever know._

"Elspeth May Hughes, will you have this Man to be your husband, and will you promise your life to him, in all love and honour, in all duty and service, in all faith and tenderness, to live with him, and cherish him, according to the ordinance of God, in the holy bond of marriage?"

"I will"

_Of course I will, we have been bound for so many years._

"Marriage is not something that two people invent, or construct by themselves. It takes a far wider community of family and friends to make any marriage work. Each of you have been invited here today because you are a part of that community. Therefore, having heard Charles and Elspeth state their intentions to each other and to God in this Service of Marriage, do you, pledge to support their union and to strengthen their lives together, to speak the truth to them in love, and with them to seek a life of love for others?"

_Our family, unconventional maybe, but who couldn't be happier for us._

Here, he took her hand, and looking straight into her eyes, repeated:

"I, Charles, take you, Elspeth, to be my wedded wife; and I do promise and covenant; before God and this congregation; to be your loving and faithful husband; in plenty and in want; in joy and in sorrow; in sickness and in health; as long as we both shall live."

_Who knows how long we will be here my love, but there will be no more wasted time, no more what ifs. I am yours, forever._

"I Elsie – Elspeth - _you darling man, the way you're looking at me is enough to distract anyone_ - take you, Charles, To be my wedded husband; and I do promise and covenant; before God and this congregation; to be your loving and faithful wife; in plenty and in want; in joy and in sorrow; in sickness and in health; as long as we both shall live."

She caught her breath as he slid the simple gold band on her finger. He had held her hand many times in the last few weeks, but somehow, this gesture was so emotional, so powerful. She heard the emotion in his voice too as he spoke:

"This ring I give you; in token and pledge; of our constant faith; and abiding love."

Lost in their own bubble of emotion at the front of the church, bride and groom were oblivious to their delighted friends and colleagues behind them as they uttered the words of the Lord's Prayer. _I have never seen you look so beautiful_. Then it was over, they were man and wife.

"By the authority committed unto me as a Minister, I declare that Charles and Elspeth are now Husband and Wife, according to the ordinance of God, and the law of the State; in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen"

-0-

As the happy couple stood outside the church receiving their guests, exchanging pleasantries, laughing in their delight in one another, no one noticed the vagabond hiding at the side of the church, his eyes searching, finding, latching on to Mr and Mrs Bates as they stood chatting – full of the plans for their departure for America on Tuesday. His heart sank as he strained to hear more details – she would be out of reach for …how long? Her next words were drowned by those of the formidable dowager greeting the bride and groom:

"Everyone goes down the aisle with half the story hidden. I suppose you at least know one another well enough. She is a good woman, Mr Carson, and while the phrase is enough to set my teeth on edge, there are moments when her virtue demands admiration. I am very pleased for you both."

"Praise indeed" she whispered

"Indeed, Mrs Carson" he grinned, puffing out his chest with pride.

Afraid of being seen, as the young girl he had frightened in this very spot approached, laughing with a young dark haired lad, the vagabond was gone, but today had been useful. He had observed and identified. That would have to suffice for now. He took his moment and slipped away as those outside the church were distracted by Marigold presenting the bride and groom with a horseshoe for luck as George enthusiastically threw rice and rose petals liberally around. "I like weddings" he announced, caught up the in excitement "but I don't understand why the horseshoe is lucky - it isn't for the horse, he'll be limping on three shoes."

-0-

"I hate to have to say it Mrs Patmore, but shouldn't some of the staff be heading back to the Abbey to prepare lunch?"

"No! It's all under control and for heaven's sake man relax, - it's your wedding day and you've waited long enough." She linked her arms between her friends as they walked; not their ideal progress back to the Abbey on their wedding day maybe but they were so happy they couldn't be cross; after all she had wanted this for them nearly as much as they wanted it themselves. "I'm that glad you kissed her in the church Mr Carson" she continued nudging the butler, "it's only right at a wedding"

"Mrs Patmore!"

"What? Don't get all coy on me now, _Mrs_ Carson "she nudged both and with a cheeky wink "after all, a kiss is just a pleasant reminder that two heads are better than one."

-0-

On their return to the Abbey, Mr and Mrs Carson were amazed to see the front lawn decked out as if for a small garden party. The Countess came up alongside her and seeing the tears in her housekeepers eyes, squeezed her arm – "proof that Mr Barrow and Miss Baxter will cope while you have a few days honeymoon?" she asked smiling. "Congratulations - we are delighted for you…now enjoy!"

"Oh no" groaned Mr Carson as they stood back, admiring the effort that had gone into their wedding feast "here comes the harbinger of doom"

"Now, now" soothed his wife; for it seemed that even Mr Barrow was not immune to the magic of a Spring wedding and had merely come to offer sincere congratulations and reassurances about the running of the house until Tuesday. He handed over a pile of telegrams and cards from former staff expressing their heartfelt wishes. "There's one with a Boston postmark" he nodded kindly at Mrs Hughes, knowing she would have loved Tom and Sybbie to be here "and Daisy's cake is a masterpiece. I'll make sure Anna packs some to take for them." Maybe, finally, the worm had turned.

Mrs Patmore strutted proudly across the lawn, dragging a bashful figure in her wake. "Mr and Mrs Carson, "she announced "meet your chef!"

"Alfred!" cried Elsie as the young man bent to kiss her cheek and shake her husband's hand.

"Daisy wrote and told me" he said "and you were both so good to me, I took some time, talked Mrs P here round and well, here I am!"

-0-

Rolling over she woke in the early hours, and had never felt so content. In that hazy, sleepy moment between sleep and waking, she stretched and felt a strange feeling settle on her: pure happiness. His arm lay heavy, warm, and proprietorial across her. She stirred slightly, revelling in the luxurious, decadent sensation of the satin rubbing smooth against the sheets. The nightie had been a gift from Anna. Wrapped and placed on her pillow last night, she remembered blushing when she found it - shocked that Anna had bought her anything so …daring. Before last night she had been ignorant of a lot. She grinned, helpless against the tide of happiness that washed over her.

Moonlight crept round the edges of the curtains – and to think three weeks ago, she had been blown away by a kiss in this room – now a gentle glow from the moon's rays lit his face as he slept; love suffused her and she felt a flush of desire grip her. Never before had she felt so attractive, so wanted, so loved, so – she stifled a giggle – so wanton, as quivering a wave longing raged through her once more and she reached out to stroke his face.

Last night had been a revelation; she had thought she was melting into him as they were consumed by passion. She had worried about how awkward it may be, the transition from best friends to lovers. In the event it had been the most natural thing in the world, dictated not by reason or discussion, but purely by instinct and love. Kissing passionately, their mouths had met with an urgency which surprised them both as soon as they returned to the cottage. Hearts racing he had pulled her closer, pulling the pins from her hair as they kissed. It fell tumbling around her shoulders, abundant, red tints glinting as they had they day they had kissed in the bedroom.

They had studiously avoided a repeat of that passionate day until now. Looking into her husband's eyes she had seen desire reflected in his unwavering gaze as he ran his hands reverently down her dress. "So so beautiful," he had whispered, and she had felt it, really felt beautiful for the first time in her life.

Tentatively he had touched on the buttons at the back of the dress and she had nodded, explaining that there were 24…one per year. In awe, he had unbuttoned them one by one….a kiss to her neck, button number one: _the first day you came to Downton, you were so uncertain, yet feisty, so lovely, and so unaware of your own beauty_: kisses trailing her spine, her shoulder blade, two, three, four, five, button number six, _the year you became housekeeper my equal, my other half_; hands trembling, kisses lingering against her as the anecdotes lingered year by year; button number 14, _I have never been so afraid as when I thought I'd lose you, afraid, but too weak to tell you how I felt_; his hands continued to smooth the fabric as she felt it falling open at the back. Never had she been so exposed, but she never wanted it to end….button number twenty, _I thought being away for the season that year would kill me, I lived for your letters_; button twenty two, their breathing was laboured as a frisson of electricity shot through them both. His lips continued to follow his fingers as he unbuttoned the penultimate button, nearly at the base of her spine …. _Brighton_, he whispered, so so softly. That one word summed it up. That day, that moment when she had reached for his hand and he had realised their future lay together; that day when he had decided to find some excuse to broach a future together; button twenty four…she turned as the dress pooled around her, leaving him to kiss his way up her front. _I thought you'd never ask…._

She awoke to the large comfortable presence of her husband, her best friend, her lover snoring gently beside her and marvelled at the joy of being so close to another person; wondered at how they had survived so long as single entities when this unity awaited them. She adored the affectionate way they had made love, tenderly, instinctively gentle before awakening stirrings of passion as they discovered more about one another; with knowledge came confidence and with confidence happiness beyond anything she could ever have imagined.

Waking, her propped himself on one elbow and looked down at the wonderful woman sleeping beside him. Tears threatened as he took in her radiant beauty and he felt his colour rise as memories of last night, their first as man and wife flooded him; she loved him, as he did her, and that was all that mattered.

Days passed complicit in the happiness they shared; their cottage became their world and life beyond their four walls felt another world, one they knew they would have to re-join reluctantly at some point. She marvelled at the way that this wonderful man, this husband of hers had managed to switch off so easily from the house which had tied him so tight for so many years and become Charles Carson, the man, her man, her husband.

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**I hope you enjoyed!**

**Now I shall shamelessly beg for reviews! Please let me know your thoughts!**


	6. Chapter 6

Sorry for those of you expecting May….I'm afraid that though written it won't be appearing.

As some of you may have noticed, I have been "absent" from FF for a few weeks - life has been hectic allowing little time to write. I've also fallen behind with reading and reviewing, for which I apologise!

On logging on to indulge in an hour or so catching up, I was very disappointed to see that both my ideas and some actual content from my stories have been "borrowed" by other users.

As an English teacher, I deplore plagiarism in any form. I have hitherto felt that FF has been a safe and fun community to enjoy writing in with likeminded individuals (as most of you lovely people are). Imitation may be the sincerest form of flattery, but I can't see it that way at the moment!

As such, I will not be continuing to post.

I would like to thank you all for your support with my writing - you lovely people have got me over a complete writers block and given me the confidence to continue with my own projects. I would especially like to thank Evita mockingbird and Chelsie fan.

I wish you all the best with your writing in the future.


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